Sorry
by WellEverythingOriginalWasTaken
Summary: What happens when an ill-conceived prank goes wrong? Sirius muses upon the consequences once it's far too late.


**A/N: Apologies if anyone has gotten two alerts for this, had a bit of a space out and uploaded it with no note. As usual all credit goes to JK and for once there is no smut in this, so I made up for it with character death, sorry. Mentions of a gay relationship, so if that offends you who knows how you've made it this far, but move on.**

You don't know where to sit. You should be with James and Peter, but the expression you got from them when you dared walk into the Church; it was as though they were surprised you hadn't spontaneously combusted due to the evil contained in you. And thinking about it, you probably should have. But somehow you made it in alive and now find yourself at a loss as to where to sit.

They're in the second row, with Lily, and it surprises you to see her sniffing against James, who slowly puts an arm around her. But you know at this moment in time it's for comfort; not some ulterior motive. In front of them, on their own are a couple you've only seen a few times before. They're clinging onto each other for dear life, and you can see the woman's shoulders shaking furiously.

You know that afterwards everyone will step forwards and tell them they're sorry for their loss, and offer useless condolences. You probably shouldn't. It would seem disrespectful. But then again surely it would be even more insulting if you didn't? The conclusion you come to is that you'll think about it during the service.

The priest, a muggle, for his mother's sake you think, drones on and on about your- about their son. A boy he never knew. A boy he never saw smile, those huge amber eyes lighting up when he got really passionate about something, which was more than you would have expected. A boy he never saw tug on the ends of his hair when he was agitated, until you took hold of his hands and did your best to soothe him. And you pause, and think about selfish it is of you to only remember the way he was with you, because so many people loved him, and the turnout reflects that. Maybe it's a comfort to his parents, you imagine not. Nothing seems comforting at the moment, and he's not your son. You weren't lucky enough to know him for all that time, and now you won't be, and it's all your fault. No-one babies you, telling you it isn't, because everyone knows it is. Especially you.

Eventually the priest stops and steps down. You assume this means it's the end, but no-one else moves, well, almost no-one. Mr. Lupin disentangles himself from his wife and moves to take the priest's space. He looks older and frailer than when you saw him last, but that's hardly surprising. Recent events have taken their toll on everyone.

He makes several attempts to speak, but has to stop, to clear his throat. When he does finally begin, his voice is low and gruff, as though he fears he will lose the words if he speaks any louder. "I'd like to thank you all for coming. It means a lot to us, and Remus would be glad to know he had so many people who cared for him." You feel sick to the stomach at the mention of his name, and turn your head in the direction of a choked sob, not knowing if it came from Lily or Mrs. Lupin, or perhaps both. "He, he always said that he thought he would… pass on young, and I think we'd all agree he always had to be right" he pauses, a sad smile on his face as a low ripple of laughter rises and then fades. "We were always told how lucky we were that he survived, and I know I should be grateful that we got ten years more with him than we should have, but it wasn't enough. He deserved so much more than what life gave him, and I know if he had the chance he would have fought and fought to do whatever he could to make the world a better place. Not just for him, but for everyone, because that's who he was. Stupidly selfless and pig-headed. But kind-hearted and as good as they come."

And he was. He was the best soul you had ever had the fortune of knowing. He could have been so bitter; so angry at the world that had screwed him over time and again, but he never was. Mr. Lupin goes to continue, but nothing comes out, and it all gets too much for you, and like the coward you are you turn and leave.

You run away, in true Black spirit. You've been reminding yourself of them more and more recently, maybe you were meant to be bad all along. Just a late bloomer. And you're revealed yourself in the grandest way possible. Responsible for the death of the boy you loved and now running out of his funeral.

After a while the service ends and everyone comes out. You toy with the idea of leaving, but that would be even worse, so you remain stood by the tree. But James catches sight of you soon enough and storms over, hair flying in front of his red rimmed glass covered eyes.

In a display of something truly unlike the normal James, he grabs hold of your collar and slams you against the tree. "What are you doing here?"

"I-I" great, now you're stuttering like an idiot. "I thought I should."

"Why the hell would you think that?" he spits out at you. "Have you not done enough damage that you have to turn up and remind them just what happened? They're in pieces, Sirius, their son died! Their son, who survived nearly being killed by a werewolf, has ended up dead at sixteen because of you. And he loved you! He loved you Sirius! He would have done anything for you, and this is how you repay him?" he's nearly screaming at this point, and you've never seen anything like it before, and hope you never will again. But you know that you deserve it. After a few deeps breath he seems to have calmed down just a little, and his grip loosens. "He's gone, Sirius. No more Marauders, no more moons, no more Remus. I don't know if that's hit you or not yet, but I hope to Merlin it does, and I hope you remember that it is _nothing_ compared to what that poor couple are feeling."

"I love him" is all you can say.

"No. You thought you loved him" he places particular emphasise on the word 'loved'. It's time you started thinking in the past tense. That's what he's telling you. "He did love you, that was all he ever wanted, and you and I both know he deserved so much more. What was it you always used to say? When he was lying in bandages or trying to pretend that he wasn't in pain?" he prompts you, but you don't want to say the words. Because they will only remind you of how inherently evil you are. "I know you remember, don't even try to pull that. What did you say?"

"He's getting punished for things he never did. He got punished" you correct yourself.

"If you're going to stay then stay. I don't care what you do" and you get the impression that he's telling the truth and doesn't care. And he won't anymore. He won't care about you, or believe you, or trust you, or even want anything to do with you again in the future. And maybe that's what you deserve.

You never really got the whole throwing soil onto the coffin thing. Soil would cover it eventually wouldn't it? So what was the point of sprinkling handfuls on? But yet as you watch the Lupins drop handfuls of it down the hole that looks far too deep, you want nothing more than to be there with them. And as for that hole. Remus is down there, your Remus, in a box. In a box that is bolted shut. He can't get out of the box. And even if he could, he couldn't get out of the hole. And then it hits you. These physical barriers that are stopping him being there give you a true understanding. He's not coming back. This isn't a visit to the Hospital Wing; you won't see him the next morning. He's gone. Remus Lupin has ceased to be. He. Is. Dead. He tore himself to pieces and his blood flowed onto the floor of that dirty, creaking shack. It's probably still there. He lay alone and in agony, knowing that those would be his last breaths. And he didn't even know it was your fault. He would've been thinking of you, because you would have been thinking of him if it was the other way around. He didn't know it was your fault he was dying along, he died in love with you, and that's what hurts the most. He didn't die hating you for what you did, he died loving you. He would have been wondering where you were, wishing you were with him.

It's strange, how you never considered that before. While everyone was in Dumbledore's office trying to get things under control he was dying, he was alone. He was dying alone. Everyone was so preoccupied with keeping the secret under wraps that no-one actually thought about what was happening. Or maybe it was a defence mechanism; if you focused on what they could control then no attention had to be paid to what you couldn't. Namely the oddly quiet shack as the sun rose and you found yourselves still sat in the office. Sunrises were his favourite. He'd get so happy if he was up in time to see one, and you supposed that came from it being the ultimate signal that the moon was gone. And he'd turn as pink as the morning sky when you would tell him they were as beautiful as he was. There won't be anymore sunrises. Your sun has set.

_Here lies Remus John Lupin. Beloved son and treasured friend. May he find peace and be kept in the hearts of those whose lives he touched._

Here lies Remus John Lupin. Loving, dutiful son, fantastic friend and amazing boyfriend. May he hurt no longer and be remembered for the brilliant, beautiful soul that he was.


End file.
